


Chemical Burn

by writingonthewalls18



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-12 20:13:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19236298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonthewalls18/pseuds/writingonthewalls18
Summary: "Would you...live for me?" Harley Quinn pays a visit to the chemical processing plant. She reflects on the 'death' of Harleen Quinzel, former psychiatrist and birth of Harley Quinn, Clown Princess of Crime.





	Chemical Burn

**A/N:** This was an idea that came to mind; Harley would have the occasional ‘sane’ moments and reflect on certain things she had done on the Joker’s behalf or on her life. This is a quick exploration of her reflecting on her “death” as Harleen Quinzel and her ascent to Harley Quinn. It sounded better in my head, so I apologize if it does not translate well.  
______________________________________________________________________________

 

Darkness was settling over Midway City, the final rays of the sun fading away. Lights kicked on, illuminating the city’s streets, buildings, late-night joints and more. The lights, however, did not extend to the rear of the lone factory near the docks. Midway City’s Ace Chemicals Processing Plant loading dock was shrouded in darkness; the perfect place for criminal activity. Whether it was a drug deal, illegal weapons purchasing or one of the city’s notorious criminals’ heists, the factory had plenty of bad history.  Though armed with a couple of security guards, it was still easy to scale the chain-link fence surrounding the property.

A lone (stolen) motorcycle was propped up against some crates, the driver not taking the time to properly park it. The figure climbed agilely over the crates, leaping on to the fence. The landing was almost silent, the fence clinking as it took the weight of the body clinging to it. The figure deftly climbed the fence, vaulting theatrically into the air to land lightly on its’ feet. The person broke into an easy jog then, taking care to avoid any water puddles and the guards’ paths.   
Twenty feet up in the building’s surface was a broken window.

Pausing, the figure tilted its’ head back, analyzing the trajectory needed to leap from the ground to reach its’ sill. Taking several steps back, the individual crouched, preparing to spring. A flash of light caught the intruder’s attention, just a mere few feet away from the corner. Wasting no time, the intruder sprung, grasping a pipe hanging near the window. They hauled themselves through the open window just as the guard turned the corner. They waited until the guard’s footsteps faded before proceeding.   
Straightening up, the intruder took off through the factory, walking briskly over the wooden platform, intent on the set of stairs almost directly opposite. Reaching the staircase, the intruded climbed them at a swift clip, winding round and round until they reached the fifth floor.

 

The fifth floor consisted of a single large platform, overlooking nine constantly brewing chemical vats. The rest of the floor was made of smaller steel staircases and catwalks, crisscrossing each other to allow the factory employees quick access to other areas on the floor. This particular staircase exited on to the platform. The intruder slowly crossed the platform. Stopping about a foot from the edge, they looked down into the dimly lit room. Steam and mist rose from the vats, filling the large room with a slightly damp warmth. The intruder slowly crept to the edge and lowered themselves down to a sitting position, legs dangling over the edge.

_“Would you die for me?”_

Harley Quinn’s head snapped up, sending her blonde, dip-dyed hair cascading down her back. Her blue eyes widened as the Joker’s voice suddenly echoed through her mind. Her pale fingers gripped the edge of the platform. Staring blankly across the room, memories began filling the former psychiatrist’s mind.

 _Harleen Quinzel had just finished chasing down the Joker. She was determined to prove to the Clown Prince of Crime that she loved him. He had put her through tests both psychological and physical. Harleen endured each one, losing a little bit of herself each time. The end-all for Harleen was when a semi-truck had pulled up to a stop behind the Joker’s_ _Lamborghini. The driver had leaped from his truck to scream at the pair for blocking the road. In that instant, Harleen bled away for a moment, giving birth to an all-new person. She snatched the gun from inside the Joker’s jacket and shot the man point-blank. Harleen then turned the weapon onto the Joker, the barrel contacting the deranged man’s forehead._  
  
“Do it, it, do it, do it, do it…”  
  
Harley was pulled back into the present. A sound of footsteps had jolted her back to her surroundings. One of the guards was performing his rounds inside the vat room. Harley quickly swung her limber body off the edge and onto the platform proper. She lay on her stomach, peering over the edge as the guard completed his walk. Harley rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling.

_It was that very evening the Joker had finally decided to put Harleen through the ultimate test. A test of her absolute loyalty.  
He grabbed her arm, stashed her in the Lamborghini, and sped off into the velvet darkness blanketing Midway City. The Joker wound his way through the city streets, passing cars at alarming speeds. The purple vehicle continued on to the outskirts towards the city’s docks. Up to the right was a large chemical processing plant, Ace Chemicals. The Joker had used the area before for crime sprees and other dealings. It also held a special sentimental value; the Batman had chased him into this very plant. There had been a resulting accident; the Joker had fallen into a vat of chemical waste, bleaching his skin, turning his lips red and coloring his hair green. It would be almost symbolic to take Harleen to the plant._

_“Would you live for me?”_

Harley rolled back onto her stomach to stare down at the vats again. She could remember it all so clearly: the “Oath”, the fifty-foot drop, the Joker lifting her into his arms…  
  
Harleen had died in the vat. She had drowned and sunk to the bottom to never be heard from again. Harley Quinn had risen from the same vat, bleached white skin, bleach blonde hair, clothes slowly melting off.

_Harley opened her eyes to see the Joker staring down at her, his arms around her body. He laughed in triumph; she had finally shown her complete and utter loyalty. He leaned down to kiss her, then held her to him as if he were truly happy she had lived…_

Harley pushed her lean gymnast’s frame from the concrete floor into a standing position. She reached up to straighten her black and gold diamond-patterned clubbing dress. She hurried back to the staircase, her gold heels clocking on the concrete. She needed to return back to the Joker’s home before he noticed her missing. It was date-night, after all.


End file.
